


between the devil and the deep blue sea

by HannahPelham



Category: British Singers RPF, George Harrison - Fandom, George Harrison - RPF, The Beatles
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 12:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15073259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahPelham/pseuds/HannahPelham
Summary: George doesn't take John's death particularly well, and in January 1981 he meets a woman who will change his life forever.





	between the devil and the deep blue sea

George slammed the car door and walked down towards the sea. He breathed in the salty air and immediately relaxed. It wasn’t meditation, sure, but people had always said to him that sea air helped them think. He saw a figure wrapped up in coats, sat on a picnic blanket and made his way over. 

 

“Sorry, do you mind if I share your blanket?” He asked. The figure turned around to reveal a woman. A pretty woman. 

 

“Not at all. I’m Dalia” she replied, moving over to give George some space. 

 

“George” he whispered as he sat down, watching the tide come in and out. Dalia gave him a knowing smile and closed her eyes again, breathing deeply. 

 

“I always come to the sea to think” Dalia said after a while. George looked at her properly for the first time. She was beautiful. Not like Pattie, though. Not classically hollywood pretty, but very very pretty. She was pale, with light brown hair and deep brown eyes. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” George asked tentatively. He wanted to know more about her. 

 

“My parents. They died a few months ago” Dalia replied, smiling sadly. 

 

“One of my best mates died” George replied quickly, trying to let her know that he knew how she felt. 

 

“I saw”

 

“So you  _ do  _ know who I am?”

 

“Of course. I’m not an idiot.” Dalia replied, mock offended. 

 

“Never said you were” George replied, amused. 

 

“You implied it”

 

“I didn’t mean to. I do apologise” George said, resting his hand on hers for a moment. He stuck his hands in his pocket and grabbed a scrap of paper. He wrote his address and phone number on it. 

 

“If you ever need to talk, Miss….”

 

“Breuer. Dalia Chaya Breuer” She said, properly introducing herself. 

 

“Unusual” George commented. 

 

“Jewish” Dalia replied as she pulled an old receipt from her coat pocket, before stealing George’s pen and scribbling her details on it. 

 

“How do I know you’re not some crazy stalker weirdo?” George asked, raising his eyebrows as he handed her his address. 

 

“How do I know  _ you’re  _ not some crazy stalker weirdo?” Dalia retorted, as she handed him hers. 

 

“Touche” he replied, laughing. 

 

\-------------------

 

George was sat eating his breakfast when the doorbell rang. He put his spoon back in his bowl and got up, wandering to the door. He opened it to see Dalia, in floods of tears. He quickly put his arm around her and led her in, taking her to the kitchen. Without saying a word, he made her a cup of tea before sitting down next to her. 

 

“Come on then, sweetheart, what happened?” George asked softly. Dalia wiped her tears with the back of her hand and smiled weakly at George. 

 

“I...I...I don’t know. You said to come if I needed someone and well…”

 

“You needed someone?” George replied, putting his arm around her shoulder. Dalia nodded as she leaned into him. George rubbed her shoulder gently as she sipped her tea and he carried on eating his breakfast, wondering what had happened for her to get into this state. He didn’t know why he was so attached to her, but he was, and he wanted to make sure she was alright. They sat there for a while, neither one speaking and neither one moving very much, staring out the window at the garden. They didn’t need to say anything, to do anything. They both understood that the company was more healing than anything. They only moved and spoke when one of them was hungry or thirsty or was uncomfortable.

 

\------------------------

 

In the following days, Dalia and George stayed at Friar Park, sheltering from the harsh winter weather. George took Dalia a cup of tea every morning. She’d drink it whilst he meditated. She’d make breakfast and have it on the table when he re-emerged. They’d stare out of the window and assess the weather and whether or not they would venture outside. They’d inevitably decide to stay inside. They fell into a domestic routine in a few days, with the whole business feeling entirely natural. It was the fourth or fifth day when George asked her how long she was staying. 

“Not that I don’t like you being here, of course. I was just wondering”

 

“I have no idea” Dalia replied honestly, sipping her tea as she watched the rain fall outside the kitchen window. 

 

“How long do you want to stay?”

 

“I don’t know really”

 

“Stay forever?” George asked, leaning on the work surface next to her and smiling brightly. Dalia just raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. 

 

“You don’t mean that”

 

“I do!” George protested. “You can stay forever if you want. That guest bedroom you’re staying in can be yours. Decorate it how you like. It’s nice having the company”

 

Dalia gasped and looked at George, trying to tell if he was joking. She quickly convinced herself he wasn’t.

 

“Lets do it” Dalia said after thinking for a moment, smiling over at George. 

 

\------------------------

 

Life at Friar Park with George was everything Dalia had hoped it would be. They became the best of friends, leaning on each other for support, taking turns at making dinner and generally having a rather wonderful time. In this time, Dalia found herself falling head over heels for George. She didn’t know what it had been that had made her realise that she was in love with him. She, to paraphrase Jane Austen, was in the middle before she knew she had begun. She had a moment one day, probably sitting at the kitchen table whilst George made tea, when she realised she was in love with him. 

 

Completely unbeknownst to her, George was going through something very similar. He did know, however, exactly when he’d fallen in love with Dalia. She’d taken him a cup of tea after a particularly good party, trying to help his hangover. She’d sat on his bed and kept him company whilst he decided whether the contents of his stomach were going to stay there or not. She’d sat with him all morning, bringing him cups of tea. That was the moment he fell in love with her, or the moment he realised he was in love with her. He wasn’t quite sure. He just knew he was desperately in love with her. 

 

After a few weeks, George realised he needed to do something about it. He’d go mad if he didn’t. 

 

George and Dalia were sat at dinner one night, chatting about nothing in particular. It wasn’t a special occasion, and she wasn’t dressed up, but George couldn’t remember Dalia ever looking so beautiful. He knew he had to do something. 

 

He bottled it during dinner. He’d never had trouble talking to women before, so why was it so difficult with Dalia? 

 

Because he actually loved her, he soon realised. 

 

They were sat around, George casually strumming a guitar when he decided to make his move. He placed the guitar down and moved ever so slightly closer to Dalia. 

 

“George?” Dalia whispered, leaning in towards him. 

 

George leant in, meeting Dalia halfway. Their lips met, and it was like their whole lives had been leading to that moment. His hands rested on her cheeks gently, tips of his fingers twisting into her hair. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. She never wanted to let go. She felt like everything they’d been through and shared in the past couple of months had been leading up to this moment, and she never wanted it to stop. They reluctantly parted a couple of moments later, but neither one letting go of the other. 

 

“Dalia, I love you” George whispered, leaning his head against hers. 

 

“I love you too, George” Dalia replied, kissing him again gently. Before she knew it, Dalia was being thrown over George’s shoulder and carried upstairs. 

 

Dalia woke up the next morning in George’s arms, feeling much safer than she had in a long time. Her head was resting on his chest, his arms around her, holding her close. She wanted to stay there forever. She watched his face for a few moments, before his eyes fluttered open. He immediately pulled her closer. 

 

“Good morning my love” She whispered, nestling her head into his neck, kissing it gently every now and then. George hummed in reply and kissed her forehead. 

 

“How do you fancy waking up next to me every day for the rest of your life?” George asked sleepily, smiling at the woman in his arms. 

 

“Sounds good to me” 


End file.
